Of Pillow Forts and Lullabies
by Principessa Dell'Opera
Summary: Thunderstorms send America underneath the nearest piece of furniture.  Britain makes everything all better.  Warning: copious amounts of fluff.  Possibly lethal.  R&R!


**Summary: Thunderstorms send America underneath the nearest piece of furniture. Britain makes everything all better.**

**Warning: copious amounts of fluff. Possibly lethal.**

**This little fic is dedicated to my little sister, **_**Selestyna Arpa364**_**, who just started her next year of college this week, and also to my sweet friend **_**BlendingSkies**_** who I beta for. Sis, I love ya and miss ya. Cielito, thank you for your kind, kind words.**

Of Pillow Forts and Lullabies

There was another rainstorm in DC, and America was about to go postal. Britain was visiting! He planned out an entire awesome date too! _Why_ couldn't the weather cooperate for once?

Currently, Britain was sitting on the sofa reading _Moby Dick_ contentedly while America sat cross-legged in front of the window, scowling and staring morosely at the raindrops. _Well_, America reasoned with himself, _it could be worse. It could be a—_

**CRAAAACK-**_**BOOOOOM!**_

America yelped like a puppy whose tail had been stepped on, and dove halfway under the couch. Britain had dropped the book in surprise when the thunder had split the sky, but quickly recovered the book and poked America's rear end with his toe.

"Come now, America, stop acting like a child. It's merely thunder."

"It's scary, Britain!" America yelled, sounding rather squished by the heavy piece of furniture. Britain rolled his eyes. Some things never changed.

"Really, America. Your behavior is unseemly. Now get out from under there!"

"No!"

"America."

"No!"

Britain sighed heavily as he set aside his book, made his way upstairs to his and America's bedroom, and grabbed as many pillows, blankets, and sleeping bags he could find (which was actually quite a lot) and a few flashlights. He staggered back downstairs.

America's legs and butt were where Britain had left them, looking comically like the Wicked Witch of the East being squashed beneath Dorothy's house again. Sighing, Britain put everything down, and began to rearrange the room.

When chairs and tables had been sufficiently turned over, stood up, and pushed around, Britain began lining the inside with some blankets, the sleeping bags, and most pillows, before he draped the outside with more blankets, making cloth doors, walls and ceilings. Britain surveyed his handiwork and nodded, satisfied.

Thunder cracked again, and the sofa jerked as America spasmed in fear and accidentally smashed the top of his head. Groaning, he wriggled his way out of the tiny space and gasped, wide-eyed.

His living room had been completely transformed in just a few minutes! He was sitting inside the biggest, most intricate (_Check out my kick-ass vocabulary, yo!_ America thought proudly) and badass pillow fort. Ever.

A long-fingered hand lifted a blanket aside, and Britain crawled over to America, trying to not look too pleased with himself, and handed the younger nation a flashlight.

"This always seemed to work when you were small," Britain said as an explanation, looking away embarrassedly. America grinned so wide he could have sworn his head cracked in half.

"Aaaw, babe—" America began sweetly, but another clap of thunder cut him off and he squeaked in fear, leaping into Britain's lap and clutching him tightly.

"America!" Britain yelled, his voice muffled. He tried to pry America's arms off, but the boy was too strong. He pinched the underside of America's arm which seemed to have the desired effect. America curled up on Britain's lap instead, arms tight around Britain's waist.

"Britain?"

"What is it, you sodding git?"

"Sing me a lullaby?"

"Aren't you a bit too old for this?"

America shook his head no, and Britain softened. Allowing himself to show a bit of tenderness, he combed his fingers through America's hair slowly, and America immediately calmed.

"Please?" he asked, and Britain could not say no.

Softly, Britain began to sing in a gentle baritone. "_Close your eyes gently / and gently breathe deep / while the rain sings you / so sweetly to sleep. / Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby lay_." America's breathing evened out, and his arms weren't nearly as tight anymore. Britain sang on, voice low and soothing. "_The sky is gently / beginning to weep / but the rain sings you / so happ'ly to sleep. / Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby lay_." Britain eased himself to the floor without waking America, and when he finally lay comfortably down on the floor covered in sleeping bags, America cuddled closely, a dream-happy smile on his face. Britain continued stroking America's hair, and finished the song. "_So lay down gently / and don't make a peep / hear the rain sing you / so warmly to sleep. / Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby lay_."

America sighed contentedly in his sleep, and Britain allowed himself a small smile. Tucking a pillow under his head and gathering America closer in his arms, he drifted lightly to sleep, just as content as America.

They happily dozed, napped, and slept the day away, listening to each other breathe, and the quiet lullaby of raindrops on the window panes.

**It's been raining all week and this morning while I was waiting for the athletic center to open (in the rain), the biggest clap of thunder I had ever heard crashed so nearby it shook the ground. It lasted 10 seconds. Scarred the crap out of me! I always liked rainy days, sunny days, any kind of day, really. But I thought that America would be sulky if his plans were ruined by rain. Also, I was bored in Biology. So this little fluffy thing was born.**

**My two guy friends (completely freaking straight) read this and squeed. I of course laughed at them for liking extremely mild yaoi.**

**The lullaby Britain sings to America is not actually a lullaby. You won't find it on Google. I wrote that today in five minutes after a pop quiz in my History of Colonial North America class. It's mine. I was quite proud of myself. The full version is:**

**Close your eyes gently**

**And gently breathe deep**

**While the rain sings you**

**So sweetly to sleep.**

**Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby lay.**

**The sky is gently**

**Beginning to weep**

**But the rain sings you**

**So happ'ly to sleep.**

**Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby lay.**

**So lay down gently**

**And don't make a peep**

**Hear the rain sing you**

**So warmly to sleep.**

**Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby lay.**

**And then I thought it was too perfect for a USxUK fic.**

**Please leave me a review! I'd really like to know what you thought! Especially in regards to the poem. I'm thinking about setting it to music.**

**REVIEW!**

**With love,**

**~La Principessa Dell'Opera**


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